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Monthly Archives: October 2017

Every year I see a thousand posts about NaNoWriMo. National Novel Writing Month. Established authors and aspiring writers both seem excited about it and flood social media with word counts and updates.

I always thought, why bother? That’s how long it takes me to write a rough draft anyway. Why should I get involved in this activity and put added pressure on myself to hit a goal, especially when I’ve usually just finished writing a novel. November is for editing—with good reason considering that’s when my holiday rush starts. Time seems to move faster and there’s never enough of it.

I’ve only written new material once in November. (Once, ever.) Book 2 of my Magic Matched series, and then, before the month was out, I’d also written two-thirds of Book 3. The muse was upon me.

I’m calling her back this month. I’m begging my muse for a moment of her time. Or, barring that, I’m begging my motivation to come off its hiatus.

I’ve had a hard year—really starting last fall, so not just this calendar year. Everything has slowed down, everything has been stressful. Personal issues have overtaken my schedule, there’s no time to write and, when there is, I have little motivation to do so. I’ve been exhausted, running from one catastrophe to the next.

I’ve been working on the same rough draft for four months now. I’ve put aside one book completely and haven’t released anything new since the last of The Double O Saga, which I wrote last year (a struggle, as my year of hardship had just begun). I don’t feel like releasing new stories, I don’t feel like marketing, I don’t feel like participating.

I am working on a book though (see above) but I’m only halfway through. I need roughly 40,000 words to make it a full-length novel. But finishing a work in progress is not the point of NaNoWriMo, is it? You’ve got to start fresh, with a new story and not a single word written before November 1, correct? This counts out a lot of projects I’ve started where I’ve got a few chapters, or whatever.

I have to finish the one book. But I’ve got to shake things up too, maybe remember why I started writing in the first place. So I’ll be starting a second book. That one needs 50,000 to complete NaNoWriMo. That brings me up to 90,000 words? Different stories, different techniques, different motivations…same goal: Finish.

Holy Hell.

My plan is to buckle down and finish the first, but also taking my time with that story the way I usually do with all my stories. Some days, I really can’t write. Life happens. Plus, I’m a writer who needs a little bit of self-editing along the way. I can’t progress if something feels out of place or fits poorly.

So I’m also going to wake up earlier every single morning, write a chapter of my new one without stopping, without looking back and without caring what I just wrote. No matter what, every single day. I’ll outline every chapter, decide what needs to be done in each beforehand, then simply write it. No looking back. I’ll fix it later.

And that’s the point, right? Just write. Nora Roberts said

‘I can fix a bad page. I can’t fix a blank page.’

Something has to shake loose around here. I started writing because I love it, because there were stories in my head clawing to get out, but somewhere along the way it got so commercial. I chose to write erotica because it was the most challenging genre I tried (seriously, you write about sex without sounding ridiculous then get back to me with your condemnation, mmkay?) But this NaNoWriMo, I’ll be writing something totally different. Might end up being YA but probably NA.

It’s something I’ve been tossing around for a very long time, a romance where the two lovers truly can’t be together. They can’t be together physically, they can’t even touch physically, but the emotions are there…and maybe that’s the thing that saves them both.

It’ll be challenging. I’m used to creating physical interludes between my characters to express a range of emotions, but what if it all just boils down to tension? I have to find a new way to show the emotional connection, longing and understanding. What if it’s learning how to love another that teaches you how to love yourself? And that opens the future’s possibilities…for them both. I mean, just because you love someone, doesn’t mean that’s who you belong with forever, right? This ain’t your typical romance.

For the first time all year, I’m really excited. Even if I fail, I can’t wait until November 1, when I’ll wake up too early to be rational, only half-functional, and write just for me. Even if no one ever sees it, even it’s awful, I’ll be putting words on the page, creating something. Something new, something I haven’t done before.

That’s the point. Just write. Create.

Happy NaNoWriMo, everyone. Good luck to the participants, and you’ll find my word counts and maybe some excerpts on my Facebook page and my website if you feel like stopping by to check it out. Leave your own word counts and excerpts in the comments, if you want. We’ll help each other through it!

Once upon a time, I knew who I was, but then, seemingly suddenly though I know it was a gradual slide, I lost myself.

Most of us spend our teenage years and well into our twenties (or thirties) trying to figure out who we are. Some of us need more time, some of us need less time, but what I think none of us realize is…we need all the time. We need our whole lives.

By the time I’d reached my twenty-fifth year, I had a decent handle on my likes and dislikes, what I was courageous enough to attempt, how to trust my intuition and just how firm my moral foundation was. I knew the type of person I wanted to be and actively worked to become that person, with a few hiccups here and there because I’m human.

But things changed. Once I learned who I was, life conspired to test me or maybe evolve me, whichever. Without realizing, I slipped into roles defined by other people’s expectations. Maybe you can relate. Parent, child, sibling, spouse, teacher, counselor, healer, lover, protector…or take your pick from a thousand others. We are all something to someone else, but that singular title doesn’t begin to cover what we really are.

I started letting what they thought define me which, in turn, started wearing down my own sense of self. The more bits I lost of myself, the more depressed I got. I didn’t even know it, either, until one day I started crying and couldn’t stop. I only faced the sunlight when I had no choice. I was physically ill, tired… I don’t know if I had or have clinical depression because I refuse to see someone about it, in spite of my doctor’s referral and recommendation. (I’m stubborn and delusional and don’t want to hear their definition of me when I’m already fighting against so many others. If you think it would help you, however, I actively encourage you to seek help.)

I started writing, in fact, because I was pigeonholed into a box that didn’t fit, complete with expectations I didn’t want to live up to by people I didn’t want to let down.

I let others tell me who I was supposed to be and what I was supposed to do. And, because I didn’t want to seem too ‘special’ I stopped dreaming, or at least I stopped working toward my dreams, and then I got depressed because I wasn’t any closer to achieving my dreams. A terrible cycle.

Writing helped me combat the pull of others’ expectations. When I first started sliding, publishing a story was my act of courage, putting sentences together into a working plot was my rebellious act of giving voice to my inner self—not my fantasies, memories or wishes and not my feelings on people I know or even myself, really, but a certain piece of my soul that would not be silenced. Every time a publisher said ‘yes’ was both validation and liberation.

I haven’t always written well, but until two or three years ago, I wrote fearlessly. I’ll always have my inner editor yammering in my brain when I think about what has come before, but hidden inside those stories is my courage, my pain, my knowledge and my fear. But, here I am, a decade after I began sliding into other people’s boxes, and I’m still writing, still clinging to the art that lent me sanity.

I can see the difference. I can see how I’ve gone from writing ‘true’ to writing ‘soft.’ Not in all things, but enough. Whatever will people think if I… But, wait, that already happens. I wrote Levi fearlessly, and there is still criticism. I wrote My Voyeur, then changed it to be easier but that gets criticism too.

I’ve had a terrible few years. It could have been worse, yes, but there has been upheaval and change in ways that were brutal to live through.

—I say that because, looking back, I think it wasn’t too bad and though I remember my tears vividly, I remember my fear and anxiety, my physical unhealthiness, my fight through depression, I also hear someone who was close to me tell me I had nothing to be sad about. Looking back, however, thinking it wasn’t too bad, is me letting her put me into a box that doesn’t fit. It’s me slipping back into a role defined for me rather than by me. A clear and important distinction. I hit a breaking point, a true moment where I knew things had to change and so I did. I lost friendships, hell, I lost my mind—

But I found me again.

Guess what? I’m not the same as I was when I was twenty five. I’m someone else now, still with my spirit and, surprisingly, still certain of what sort of person I want to be. I’d lost some of my courage, changed parts of my public self to accommodate what others wanted me to be, and I’d forgotten the sound of my intuition’s voice…but I’m human, and I’ll consider that a hiccup that taught me a great deal about a whole lot.

I’m tired of holding back to accommodate others. I’m tired of not living true to myself or my courage, of pushing back on my dreams in fear of leaving others behind. I’m tired of dimming my light so that others don’t feel like I’m pretending to be special.

I want to sparkle, dammit.

Also, I want to write what feels right, not because I think the majority will handle a story better if I change this or that. Sorry, but oh well, if I make you uncomfortable…maybe that’s your problem to evolve through.

I’m writing this on the off-chance that someone else might need to read it. I’m writing this to prove to myself that I’m still courageous enough to face the truth, even when it hurts. And, the truth is, you need to find yourself every day. You need to define yourself every day. Even if you’re different every day, it’s up to you to tell the world who you are and who you want to be, because, otherwise, the world will tell you—and that’s soul-sucking.

Every day, embrace who you are and recognize that that can change repeatedly. Be courageous, be true. You are special, don’t let the haters tell you you’re not. You should spend your whole life defining you to yourself, don’t let others do it for you.

The cage door closes on Emma Bryant’s freedom after she is arrested for a brutal murder that she did not commit. The tough-talking lioness knows the penalty she faces is death. Can she repel all of the lies in order to survive?

Scott Frazier is always the joker. Beneath the golden lion’s mane is hidden a secret that just might save the woman he’s known to be his future mate since the first time he saw her. The blood of kings runs through him. Will he make the ultimate sacrifice to save the one he loves?

Fighting the Lies is the sequel to The Touch of Snow; the paranormal romance that had non-readers converting to the genre. It continues the story of the Glacial Blood pack as they strive to save a member from the horrific position she finds herself in. But the story isn’t that simple, not when Nuka Lincoln is around, and an impending storm threatens the world as they know it. The Glacial Blood world is full of intrigue, suspense and kick arse fights. It also features a secret that should remain untold.

A family isn’t always blood; it’s the people in your life that accept you for what you are.

Anna Edwards is a British Author that has a love of travelling and developing plot lines for stories. She has spent that last two years learning the skills of writing after being an accountant since the age of 21. As well as Roleplaying on twitter, she can also be found writing poetry on Twitter

Her debut novel, Surrendered Control was released in November 2016 and has received fantastic feedback on the drama of story. Since then she has released four other books in ‘The Control Series’. The Touch of Snow is the first book in a seven (at the moment) paranormal romance series. Anna only recently discovered paranormal romance but instantly fell in love with it. Brayden and Selene’s story came to her in a dream.

In her writing she loves to combine her love for romantic and erotic novels with her passion for travel to give an international feel to her novels.

Death Valley is somewhere she visited in 2008 after a tragic personal event. It was part of a tour of the west coast of America that she loved a great deal. The highlight of the trip was a helicopter ride over the Grand Canyon .

Anna Edwards likes her hero’s hot and hunky with a dirty mouth. Her heroines demur but spunky and her books in a kick arse series.

I want to share a story I recently came across concerning Inanna, the ancient Sumerian goddess of both love and war, connected to Venus, known as the Queen of Heaven, celebrated and honored as a powerful deity.

Inanna went to visit her sister, who ruled the underworld. Before she went, she instructed her servant to contact the gods if she hadn’t returned by the third day because anyone who entered the underworld wouldn’t be allowed to leave. Wearing an elaborate outfit, Inanna descended.

She passed through seven gates in the underworld, all of which had been ordered closed and locked by her sister. At each gate, Inanna was forced to give up a part of her outfit until she finally stood before her sister naked and powerless. She still made her sister get off the throne so she could sit, but judgment was passed against her. Inanna was sentenced to death and hung on a hook.

Three days passed and her servant appealed to the gods. At first, they refused to help, knowing Inanna had brought about her own punishment but the god of creation and magic was troubled by the occurrence and agreed to help. He created two figures to collect Inanna’s body. Her sister was in agony, willing to trade anything to gain respite. The two take Inanna’s corpse and sprinkle the food of life onto it, resurrecting her.

Creatures are sent by the queen of the underworld to take someone in Inanna’s place. Inanna will not let them take her loyal servant and friends, because they had mourned her. However, her husband had not, entertaining other women while she was believed to be dead, and so she let them take him in her place.

Inanna’s sister-in-law pleads on behalf of her brother and is able to take his place for half the year in the underworld, thereby giving rise to the seasons.

~

This is one of the oldest recorded myths. You will notice the themes of descent into the underworld, death and resurrection. In three days, no less. Food of life…Seasons changing. I’m sure you’ll also notice how these particulars themes carry on throughout other cultures’ mythologies, first among female deities (Persephone, for example) and then to males (like Jesus.)

I don’t particularly care what you believe, I just think it’s interesting that a common myth begins with a goddess, and yet, so many have never even heard of her. A woman who lost her power, was trapped in a world with no light or life, but brought back and resurrected to retake her throne.

Would that womankind did the same.

In recent days, we have, again, been bombarded by the fact that many men still hold no respect for women. We have seen rapists and molesters in powerful positions come to light and we have seen rapists and molesters put into powerful positions against all commonsense. We are losing girls to the sex trade, taken as they walk home from school, snatched off the street and seduced on the internet. The stories go on and on, memes, hashtags and movements abound, but still it seems like so many are swimming against the current, and so many are deliberately pretending to an obtuseness that can’t possibly be genuine.

It wasn’t always like this. A long, long time ago, women were venerated, respected, loved and cared for. They were the leaders of their families and of society. Lineage and authority were traced through the mother’s line because she knew who her children were, while men had to take her word for it. She wasn’t called vile names for knowing the worth of her own body, nor was she vilified for celebrating all the things her body could do.

She held power over her own self, her own actions and her own future.

I’m a traditionalist in the sense that I think society as a whole should revert back to ancient traditions concerning power roles. Essentially, to my view, women were meant to lead because we are the caretakers and men were meant to protect, following their leaders’ directives, because they are physically stronger. Somewhere in humankind’s past, men took over the power—and don’t argue because this is well-accepted history. For the past several thousand years, men have controlled ‘civilization’ and they’ve been running it into the ground.

Because they aren’t natural caretakers. They are natural protectors, but what they’ve been protecting are resources, money, institutions that guarantee them more power. Women tend to care more about people, the elderly, the downtrodden, the children. Society.

Yes, I know that’s overly simplistic and there will always be exceptions to the rule, but it seems to me that the way people are viewing the world these days, it’s best not to complicate the message.

I think it’s time the women got another shot at leadership. I think it’s time we started looking into our own history and mythology, so much of which has never been written down because history has been preserved by men. So many truly important deities were depicted as women, in both love and war, hearth and home, travels, life and death. And justice, most especially justice. Interesting, right?

I think women should step up and show their strength, and I think that’s happening right now.

SingaporeFling: AsianAdventuresBook1

New Release by Lisabet Sarai

In the cleanest city in Asia, things can still get messy.

Thai entrepreneur Ploy Kaewkornwattanasakul needs to convince Singaporean tech whiz Jason Chow to license his ground-breaking innovation to her company. When she meets Jason, she realizes she wants not just the invention, but the inventor, too. The attraction is mutual. However, Jason has a shameful secret. He risks exposure if he succumbs to his desire.

~Excerpt~

Up close, he smelled even more delicious, clean and masculine. His mouth was firm, muscular, molding to hers as she deepened the kiss. It opened to her probing tongue; she tasted coffee and breath mints. He let her take the lead, sitting passive while she devoured him. That was okay. Ploy wasn’t the shy type.

His muscles shifted under his shirt as he turned to face her, their lips still locked. She mashed her breasts against his chest, stimulating her swollen nipples. Shameless, she climbed onto his lap, straddling his lean legs. Her straight skirt rode up, baring her thighs. The hardness prodding her sodden undergarments told her that he was aware of her after all.

“Oh, Jason!” she moaned, finally breaking the kiss. Releasing her grip on his neck, she brought her hand down to cup the promising bulk of his erection. “Looks like you’re hungry, too,” she murmured. “But I can help you with that…” She fumbled with his zipper, stretched tight by his bulging cock.

“No!” The Chinese entrepreneur jerked, as if she’d given him an electric shock. “Don’t!” The chair rolled backward, slamming into the wall as he pushed Ploy off his lap. She barely escaped tumbling to the floor.

“What?” She clutched the table to steady herself and tried to slow her breathing. “What’s wrong?”

“We can’t. Someone might come in and find us.”

“Everyone’s gone.” Indeed the outer offices were empty and dim.

“Sometimes the engineers come back to work after dinner,” he protested. His sudden panic puzzled her. His eyes were wild with something that looked like fear, but the tenting in his trousers remained prominent.

“No, no—I’m sorry—I should never have allowed…” He wrung his hands, looking worried and lost. What had happened to the calm, self-confident genius she’d admired all afternoon? Jason suddenly seemed a decade younger than his thirty years.

AboutLisabet

Lisabet Sarai has been addicted to words all her life. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – nearly one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

So, I saw a book and the description looked more interesting than anything I’ve seen in a long time in the world of paranormal romance, and coming from a new-to-me author. I’ve been more inclined to reread old favorites in my favorite genre than I have been to seek out new stories. I’m just as weary of trying to read stories I don’t like as every other reader out there…

But I saw this one and I decided to sign up for a review copy. I guess I’m a sadist in a way, and once I did sign up there was no going back. Then I realized it was a trilogy, and I’d just signed up for the third.

Praying hard, I found the first two books. Their descriptions looked interesting, too. Then I saw the author was from Baltimore, Maryland, my hometown. Gotta support my fellow Maryland writers, especially when they’re writing my favorite genre, the genre I write.

N.D. Jones must be my storytelling soul mate. What I love, she wrote about. Concepts I use, she used too. And, praise all that’s holy, her books were amazing. I loved them all and once I started reading, I didn’t stop until they were finished. The Death and Destiny Trilogy is a must read for anyone who loves paranormal romance.

It’s been a while since I read a paranormal romance by a new-to-me author that I enjoyed this much. N.D. Jones wrote a fantastic story that sweeps you up and bowls you along. Her characters have depth, they’re relatable. You root for them, cheer their triumphs and wince when they show you just how ‘human’ they can be. She also shows you just how enduring and entertaining classic concepts can be in the right hands.

My only ‘criticism’ of this story was that she’d written a clear resolution, the conflict had been resolved…but the story kept going on, down a different path that later proves valuable to the series, but not that particular book. It felt unconnected from what had come before. I wondered if it had been meant to be a short story between Book 1 and Book 2, and so that’s how I viewed it. Bonus story! So, not really a criticism at all, in that light.

I sat down to read this entire series because, for the first time in a while, my interest was caught by a paranormal romance’s book description. I’m so glad I did. I devoured this series, barely coming up for air, doing little else until I’d read them all. This trilogy is going on my To-Be-Read-Again pile, and I’ll be watching for other books by N.D. Jones.

The whole story is well done—the whole trilogy for that matter. I love that the two main characters are revealing themselves to each other bit by bit, and that both their magic are developing in tandem. I love the intricate and rich relationships both main characters enjoy, giving a sense of the deep roots they have and what they have to lose. Technically, when the time comes, they will fight for the world, for a goddess, but you know they’re really fighting for their circle of friends and family and I think it’s fantastic that the extended characters are also developed enough to make us feel their connections.

I was fully immersed in the world of witches and were-cats when I began this story. N.D. Jones has crafted a trilogy that swept me up and carried me on. I went from finishing Book 1 to beginning Book 2 in the space of minutes, so I will say that the devil’s in the details, and there are many details in the second book, not all of them necessary and not all of them felt consistent. Nothing major, however, and it was easy to lose myself in the pages.

I am so glad I found this trilogy. It’s been too long since I enjoyed a paranormal romance from a new-to-me author, and I’d forgotten how exciting it is to find a gifted storyteller who writes stories you want to read again and again.

This book is nearly non-stop action. From paranormal battles to emotional upheavals, I couldn’t put this one down until I was finished—and that’s saying something considering how avidly I devoured the previous two books in the trilogy.

As the title implies, this book is the one where lies are revealed. N.D. Jones does a fantastic job of balancing the past influences on our main characters with their present day fears, failures, achievements and love. In fact, she makes the reader feel the love between Assefa and Sanura in a way that’s real, lasting…and threatened, so that you end up holding your breath in the hopes that they will find victory, which isn’t guaranteed.

All bonds are tested—friends, families, mates and familiars. Sanura’s character is a better woman than I am, because she proves herself much more forgiving than me, and more quickly forgiving at that. Assefa’s personal demons must be faced, and while I think the premise for his long absence from his witch a bit thin, it still holds merit considering his character’s fears, and I appreciate that he was the one that set about his own healing once he realized what he had to lose. Oddly enough I’m much more forgiving of the water witch of legend than the cat of legend, primarily because her inner conflict is completely understandable to me, but my disappointment in the one only emphasizes how ‘real’ these characters have been crafted to be.

One extremely minor ‘criticism’ for the formatting of this story. Near the end, the author inserts images in order to illustrate her vision. I’d have preferred the images to be in an appendix of some sort, and for her to have trusted her readers to create their own image, and to trust her own words, which were fluid and descriptive and more than good enough to convey the vision she wanted.

Romances have a happy ending. I wasn’t certain if this one would—there were several ways this story could have ended, including the continuation of the series into ‘the next generation’. It’s a testament to Ms. Jones’ skill that I was so worried for the outcome of her characters and, until it happened, I couldn’t be sure just what would happen.

Ms. Jones is taking the secondary characters of this book and creating stories for them, too. I will be the first in line to buy those books. If you enjoy paranormal romance as much as I do, you will not want to miss the Death and Destiny trilogy.

The first in an all-new sexy contemporary romance series from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Shayla Black.

Bodyguard and former military man Cutter Bryant has always done his duty—no matter what the personal cost. Now he’s taking one last high-octane, high-dollar assignment before settling down in a new role that means sacrificing his chance at love. But he never expects to share an irresistible chemistry with his beautiful new client.

Fame claimed Shealyn West suddenly and with a vengeance after starring in a steamy television drama, but it has come at the expense of her heart. Though she’s pretending to date a co-star for her image, a past mistake has come back to haunt her. With a blackmailer watching her every move and the threat of career-ending exposure looming, Shealyn hires Cutter to shore up her security, never imagining their attraction will be too powerful to contain.

As Shealyn and Cutter navigate the scintillating line between business and pleasure, they unravel a web of secrets that threaten their relationship and their lives. When danger strikes, Cutter must decide whether to follow his heart for the first time, or risk losing Shealyn forever.

COMING JULY 3, 2018!

DEVOTED TO WICKED

A Wicked Lovers/Devoted Lovers Crossover Short

Sexy, suspenseful short!
Karis and Cage’s story.

Lovers reuniting in paradise?
Yes, please!

COMING DECEMBER 26, 2017!!

Links coming soon!

Shayla Black is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than fifty novels. For nearly twenty years, she’s written contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances via traditional, independent, foreign, and audio publishers. Her books have sold millions of copies and been published in a dozen languages.

Raised an only child, Shayla occupied herself with lots of daydreaming, much to the chagrin of her teachers. In college, she found her love for reading and realized that she could have a career publishing the stories spinning in her imagination. Though she graduated with a degree in Marketing/Advertising and embarked on a stint in corporate America to pay the bills, her heart has always been with her characters. She’s thrilled that she’s been living her dream as a full-time author for the past eight years.

Shayla currently lives in North Texas with her wonderfully supportive husband, her teenage daughter, and two spoiled tabbies. In her “free” time, she enjoys reality TV, reading, and listening to an eclectic blend of music.

I’ve been wracking my brains for blog post topics. It’s harder than you might think and I’m really trying to be consistent with this idea now. Over the past few years, I’ve discovered I’m not very good at sharing my thoughts, not very good at conveying advice in a timeframe that might encourage people to look forward to a certain day. I’m not a blogger.

What can an author write about? Writing, which seems boring. Maybe some paranormal creatures, which is an interesting approach, I suppose. I do that sometimes. We’re not going to write about the plots spinning in our minds because we tend to be a paranoid breed and we don’t want others to write our story before we can.

With everything that’s been going on, I’ve been trying to figure out what to write that wasn’t political nature. That’s turning out to be harder than ever. There’s so much happening, so much destruction from nature and human nature both, so many bad decisions being made, so many people moving away from compassion and empathy, so many damned trolls on a variety of comment boards. In fact, some of these trolls—I can’t help but think—don’t even believe the bullshit they write, but I also think they’re tempting fate by writing it anyway.

What comes around goes around, and that’s a karmic law we’ve all seemed to have forgotten. It’s part of the golden rule of every religion—do unto others… That’s the gist, anyway.

I wonder if people stop to ask ‘why’ anymore. Why do you believe what you believe, why do you feel the way you do, why do you think whatever you think. How many of the thoughts and comments you repeat are really yours? And why can’t you see from the other’s point of view? Is it really so threatening to take pause and examine more closely? Just thinking about something doesn’t imply agreement of, or support for, that idea…

Maybe it just affords us a moment to remember that the other person is human too.

This came through my Tumblr the other day. Maybe there is something to this. Maybe, through all these natural disasters, all the strikes against humanity via terrorism, lone wolf gunmen or everyday assaults against compassion and understanding, we’re building a common, hidden thread of weariness that suggests enough is enough, and it’s time to be people again. It’s time to remember that everyone else is people, too.

Search and Seizure. Essentially, this amendment guarantees every citizen’s right to be free from unreasonable government intrusion into their lives, property, businesses, etc. This is why the police and government agencies need warrants to look deeper when they suspect you’ve committed some crime or infraction. This is why it’s illegal to pull someone over for no good reason and search the trunk of their car, or their pockets. It’s why police can’t just barge into your house, why they can’t stop and frisk young black men for simply walking down the street. It’s why the government can’t fly drones over your corn field looking for your hidden marijuana plants or tap your phone or read your emails. Social media is not included…

This Amendment doesn’t get as much press as the First or Second, and do you even know what the Third is? (Quartering soldiers. Britain used to make people house the military at their own expense. Way to save on the military budget, right?) Anyway, the Fourth is very important, so while 1 and 2 have their rabid battles, the Fourth is quietly doing the heavy lifting of protecting the citizens of this country.

While everyone was distracted, it came under fire.

Most notably, the Fourth has been undermined by Trump’s pardon of Sheriff Arpaio. According to the Washingtom Post (just to name a source, but it’s validated by other news organizations) a federal judge ordered Arpaio to stop detaining people who were not suspected of actual criminal activity.

Essentially, Arpaio disregarded court orders and targeted people he thought specifically fit a stereotype in his region of what an ‘illegal immigrant’ was. Cough, cough…’Mexicans’…

For the record, being in this country, even without documentation, isn’t illegal—which I know will be a shocker for so many to learn. Undocumented residence in this country is a civil violation. It’s on the same level as not paying child support—which may, depending upon state rules, result in a stay in jail, but isn’t something that would go on your record or even cause deportation (shock!). Jaywalking is a crime, living somewhere isn’t.

Side note to create empathy: let’s say you’re a white man. Let’s pretend that being in the KKK, while not a crime, will get you fined for some civil violation. Maybe…I don’t know…it’s against your town’s decency standards, or something. So, Sheriff Someone goes looking for KKK members, but he starts stopping every white man he comes across because, let’s face it, nobody else is joining the group, right? But you got stopped, just because you were white… You’re not part of the group, would never be part of the group, but you still got stopped, frisked for any potential burning crosses, strip searched and checked out for swastika tattoos and then your home was also ransacked—and God help you if your sheets are white, yeah?

Is that fair? No. No, it’s not fair because you were just walking across the Walmart parking lot, minding your own business with no discernible tattoos or political/religious affiliations. Still, you fit the stereotype and so you were stopped. Wow, that must be infuriating…and illegal.

But Sheriff Someone was given a free pass, not only setting a precedent that other sheriffs in other towns may follow, but creating a boisterous, though small, group of supporters for Sheriff Someone’s policies regarding this terrible, indecent nuisance. Yes? So what happens when the town council decides it’s indecent for men to wear socks with sandals, which is your favorite thing to do? Or for residents to eat anything other than locally-grown fair trade organic produce but you’re allergic to spinach and only eat meat? With me so far? Maybe….?

Well, here’s another example, then. According to the NY Post, among others, Trump’s lawyers have asked Facebook for private information concerning private individuals who have ‘liked’ anti-Trump pages. Like the rest of America, I take news these days with a grain of salt and look for multiple sources to validate whatever claims are made. This is not making waves, so do your research, butI believe this case to be true, especially given this Administration’s history with these things.

What history? Demanding voter information, for one example. Some of what they wanted was public knowledge, or for sale through the State, but other requested data was inessential to what they were looking for. So what will they really use it for? What does this particular, and unpopular/authoritarian-leaning, administration want with the information that previous administrations didn’t feel the need to waste money on? We blame Trump’s narcissism, he needs to prove those other 3 million votes were illegally cast, but there could be a darker purpose.

Like, oh, I don’t know, rounding up critics and those opposed to the sweeping and oft-times detrimental policy changes being enacted upon us. Puts that Facebook thing into a different light, looking at it from that perspective, right? How…Orwellian. I suggest you read some, in fact.

They’ve got the ‘average’ American hoodwinked, too. They (a particular set of media/politicians/ideologues) challenge your natural reaction to giving up your privacy. You shy away, you have a funny resistance to it… But they say, what do you have to hide? You’re a good American, a patriot, don’t you want to help…

But you’re helping the downfall of your own Constitution. Every time you say, sure you can look at my corn field on camera, sure that phone could be tapped, of course they should give up their emails…what do they have to hide? You are undermining the very hard-working Fourth Amendment, and you might not care so much about it right now, but just wait till it’s gone. This one, above all, is the very concept that truly stands between freedom and totalitarianism.

Laws can be changed, and in this political climate there is no guarantee that you’ll know beforehand. You could let the police into your house thinking to be helpful, and, in certain towns, if they spy your dildo, you can be charged. If they use the bathroom, without search and seizure restrictions they can open your medicine cabinet and poke around…What do you have in there? Did you dispose of any leftover medications legally and properly?

The wholesale removal of rights would cause an uproar among us all, but a little bit here and there…and what does it matter of you’ve done ‘nothing’ wrong…

There are a myriad of small infractions a lot of us commit every day, and the Fourth keeps our little, mostly innocuous secrets safe. So be a good citizen, pay attention, and protect your privacy however you can.

That’s my bone to pick…

You won’t always agree, and that’s okay. I’d still love to hear your comments, so long as you can manage to keep yourself respectful, because we all deserve a little dignity. Be human, you know? I’m not a liberal and I’m not a conservative. I believe the best path lies in the middle and the truth takes participation from both sides. I also believe we’re on a dangerous, slippery slope because a lot of sides of a lot of issues aren’t listening to anyone else.